


Farore's Arena

by JeckParadox



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gladiators, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Gods, Mythology - Freeform, Original Character(s), Prison, Prisoner of War, Revolution, Right of succession battles, Royal Family Drama, Slavery, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:56:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeckParadox/pseuds/JeckParadox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thousands of years ago, the golden power gave Hyrule unprecedented power and growth, and the nation expanded to all four corners of the world, establishing the Great Hylian Empire. However, with time, the nobility has become corrupt, holding extravagant games of death where slaves and prisoners must battle monsters and each other for the amusement of the crowds. The Hylians take their wealth and superiority for granted, and have long since turned away from the Gods, their worship empty. This imbalance in the world needs rectifying, and the Gods take action. <br/>In the arena, a young hylian slave and a captured Gerudo Chief find themselves holding two pieces of the long-hidden Triforce. And in the castle above, an unwanted princess holds the third. Each of them plans their own revolution. <br/>Each of them pawns of their own Gods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Over a thousand years ago, the Triforce, the Goddesses gift to Hyrule, was unified in the hands of the wise Royal Family of Hyrule. Using the Golden Power, Hyrule became prosperous once more after its long twilight years. Hyrule expanded its borders, and unified a great amount of land. Seeing the greatness of their King and his power, he was named the Emperor of Hyrule, and Hyrule itself an Empire._

_Each of Hyrule's neighbors were welcomed into the Fatherland, and shared in Hyrule's prosperity, and soon Hyrule had conquered all the world._ _In thanks to the three Golden Goddesses, the Emperor declared three great Festivals:_

_To honor Farore, the Goddess of Courage, in the Spring a great tournament will be held, where champions would prove their courage in facing fearsome beasts, and each other. The people of Hyrule would drink and cheer as they watched the courageous green-clad champions fight._

_To honor Din, the Goddess of Power, in the Summer there would be a great carnival, where men showed their strength by accomplishing great feats before the audience, in magic or determination. The people of Hyrule would play games and eat good food as they saw the power of red-clad performers._

_To honor Nayru, the Goddess of Wisdom, in the Winter, there would be a great banquet, where men showed their knowledge by recounting and displaying the deeds of heroes past. The people of Hyrule would give thanks for their prosperity over the warm months, and would indulge in treats and romance as they watched the blue-clad bards and actors._

_For hundreds of years, these Festivals have been celebrated, and the Triforce, the source of Hyrule's great prosperity, is passed on from Emperor to Emperor._

_It is in giving thanks to the Goddesses that Hyrule's prosperity is ensured._

* * *

 

Farore's Arena in Hyrule Castle Town was one of the greatest works of architecture. Lining the great columns that divided the Arena's stands into sections were great carvings of Farore's mark. Deep green banners hung from flag poles set up around the Arena. Although the Spring Festival was when the great tournament began, and the most people came, the death games ran all year long. Farore's Arena stood off the center of Castle Town, and stretched far below it. As massive as the arena itself was, the labyrinth of tunnels underneath dwarfed it. From all over the Empire, unwanted slaves, criminals, and career Gladiators would be sent down into the caverns below the arena to wait for their fate. Every day, from Sunup past Sundown, the arena held event after event. From spectacle matches, to joke fights, to having gladiators face off against monsters, or the seasonal smaller-scale tournament. 

It wasn't always a death sentence for the warriors involved, but there would always be blood spilled on the arena grounds. 

"The kid?" A Hylian guard asked, gesturing to the next prisoner in line. A twelve year old blonde with Hylian ears.

"Unwanted slave." The merchant replied.

"Where's he from?"

"Other side of the old forest grounds."

"Is he Hylian?"

"He's a slave." The merchant grumbled. "Doesn't matter."

"I can't have a full-blooded Hylian be treated like the rest of this scrap." The guard said, glaring down at the boy. "What would the Nobles say? Seeing one of our kids being treated like crap by a lower race?"

"Well he's obviously not a noble." The merchant growled. "Now, are you taking him or not? I can't sell him elsewhere if you don't want him. The law says so. His former master explicitly branded him as a donation to the tournament. And it's not like I can let him go right in the middle of Castle Town!"

"Fine, fine." The guard sighed. Grabbing hold of the boy's chains, he yanked him forward and pushed him to another set of guards, who led him to stand against the wall with all the other slaves being taken by the Arena.

The boy didn't say anything through the whole exchange, his face simply becoming angrier and angrier. An older man standing to his left nudged him and whispered "cool it, you'll be executed without a word if you make trouble."

"I'm not going give them trouble." the boy whispered. "I'm going to give them hell."

The old man inched away, standing as far from the boy as possible. If the child had a deathwish, he personally didn't want to be caught up in it. 

After all the new additions to the prison were accounted for by the guard, the prisoners were led through the labyrinth, separated based on race, age, and for what if any events their former masters meant for them. 

The boy found himself sitting alone in a small cell marked with a green ribbon. Through the door, he could see dozens of other tiny cells, presumably the same as the lightless single-bed chamber he was left in. 

One of the guards had left his shackles and chains on, promising to come by later to pick them up. Not seeing anything else to do, the boy climbed onto the uncomfortable bed and thought about how cool his amazing breakout would be. 

* * *

 

The former chief's head was forced down, chains wrapped around his neck pulling him from below and steel-covered boots pressing from above. "Bow, you wretch!" The guard growled. "Don't you know the warden is a Noble? You should feel graced with his presence, we should have you executed!"

" **Then execute me you pale shit!** " He roared in response, forcing his head back up. They had managed to get him to his knees by kicking him in the joint from behind in both legs at once, but he would not allow them to make his forehead touch the ground. The snapback from the chains forced four guards to the floor, and his head pushing back up sent two more falling over. 

The warden merely began laughing in response. "Oh my! We won't be doing that, it would be _such_ a waste!" He grinned widely. "You're such a valuable find! Gerudos are always valuable of course, in fact, they almost uniquely participate here, any time they're brought to another colloseum, we buy them to perform for the Emperor. He enjoys the sight of exotic women dueling, as does a great many of our regular guests." 

The prisoner's sneer became a grimace of absolute hatred. 

"In fact, just a dozen years ago, the Emperor himself became so enchanted with them he even bought one of them for his son-"

The former chief's chains rang out as the weights on the end clashed against the clasps holding them to the floor. The clasps themselves were groaning as the prisoner pushed harder and harder, trying to reach out and grab at the warden's face. The warden had been startled, and fell to the ground the moment it happened, but upon seeing his prisoner unable to get any closer, and how desperate his hate-filled face was, the warden laughed once more getting up. "But a male Gerudo? Nearly unheard of! Truly, a rare find! And your strength- oh my! You will be a fan favorite, I'm sure. Who knows, if you're lucky, perhaps some noble will buy you as a bouncer for his parties." The warden raised his eyebrows. "Or perhaps you could dance? The Gerudo women all know, for sure, but I wonder how their dance would being performed by someone as bulky as you."

"I'll kill you." The prisoner promised. "I'll end you. I'll have you drowning in your own blood, and I shall laugh, you hear me!"

The warden almost giggled, and began walking off. "Take him to his cell, be careful not to hurt him, he's going to be a main event!"

* * *

 

Harkinian sat upon his throne and watched silently as his sons, and behind them, his grandchildren, formed ranks before him. Waiting until the room was absolutely quiet, he opened his mouth and spoke "I'm glad that all of you have joined me for this year's Festival of Courage. It has been a long time since we have all gathered in one room." He gave a small smile and gestured to the four oldest of his sons. "I am looking forward to your own tales of courage on the various fronts, my children."

"Yes father." Came a unified reply from the seven sons. 

The old Emperor's face softened a little, and he opened his arms wide. "And it has been far too long since I have seen all of my grandchildren gathered in one place. Come here, children." The kids, tired from being forced to remain silent and still while they took formations, were glad at the release and rushed toward their grandfather in a flash. All but one, a girl twelve years old who remained behind her father. Very behind her father, using his cape to hide herself from the Emperor. 

Her father, Daphnes, stilled himself, refusing to show any kind of emotion on his face as his elder brothers pointedly _did not_ look at the girl who was technically disobeying the Emperor. 

However the Emperor himself would not be fooled. As he greeted each of his grandchildren and asked them little pointless nice questions, he looked up and frowned at Daphnes. "And, where is Zelda?"

Daphnes did not answer, merely hardening his emotionless expression. 

"I do not mock you, my son." Harkinian said, a bit of tiredness creeping into his voice. "We do not need to make a show of this. Zelda, come here."

Breaking away from her father's cape, she in a rush made her way forward and gave a deep bow to the emperor. "I'm sorry." She said quietly, feeling the glares from her uncles and some of the other children. 

"It is fine. And how have you been doing, Zelda?"

"She's not Zelda, grandpa!" Another of his granddaughters, a twelve year old named Hera, said, frowning. "Zelda is a special name! She's Tetra."

The emperor frowned at the girl. "It is the tradition of the Hylia family to name the first girl born into the royal family that generation Zelda, if she is the firstborn of her own siblings."

"But she's not the _real_ firstborn!" Hera protested. 

"Hera!" Her father barked. "Do _not_ contradict the Emperor."

"Yes father!" She said quickly, looking scared, and turning to the emperor. "I'm sorry for saying you were wrong!"

"It's fine, child." Her grandfather said dryly. "You are a child, and your ignorance of such decorum is solely the blame of your father." He raised an eyebrow at the oldest of his sons. 

Zelda tried to shrink into nothingness. The emperor sighed, looking at the other children, who, a moment ago were feeling elated from their grandfather's attention, but now were somewhat stressed from the argument and harsh words. "Where did all my smiling faces go? Hm? Come, come, children. Let's all go to the dining hall and we'll have some pudding. You'll tell me what you've been doing since the Wisdom festival." The joy returned to the small flock of children, beside Zelda, who was hesitant once more to follow them. The Emperor however, when he noticed her falling behind, shot her a simple look, and she obediently followed the others. 

Daphnes and his brothers followed soon after, watching their children play with their grandfather. The glares, sneers, and smirks from his brothers, which had been hidden in full view from their father, were in full force now that the Emperor was preoccupied. He looked at the group of kids, the oldest being sixteen, the youngest only three, being carried by an older brother. All of them had near-white pale skin, long pointed ears that extended straight from their faces, and golden yellow hair. Except for one. The oldest of the girls, whose skin was a dark bronze color, and whose hair was bright red, whose eyes were a deep gold rather than a noble blue or green, and whose ears, while still pointed, were not quite so pointed as any of the others. 

Princess Zelda. 

As the group sat down at the table, for a good while, the Emperor simply entertained his grandchildren, but as evening approached and the young began to calm down, the Emperor began speaking to his family in earnest. "It is truly good to have you all home, my sons. I have... not been feeling well, as of late. I fear I may only witness five or six more Courage Festivals after this one."

"Father no! You're still young." One of middle children protested. 

"Nonsense. But even if I live to see another fifteen or twenty springs, I must think about which of you to carry on the position of Emperor." His eyes swept the table. "And there is something I must show you all, today."

* * *

 

The seven sons of Harkinian followed him along the ancient and hallowed paths beneath Castle Hyrule. "Father, are we heading toward-" one of the middle sons began, before the harsh glares of his brothers silenced him. "-So we are."

The chamber oozed the word 'ancient'. The stone was dulled and scuffed, the columns were dented and some had broken under their own weight. In the center of the room however, locked in the stone, was the one thing that appeared immaculate and new. The Master Sword, and floating gently in a circle above it, three black gemstones. "This is the Temple of Time." Harkinian whispered. "And these are the gems that represent each of the three Goddesses."

The sons stared in awe. Harkinian walked forward, and drew the blade from the stone, soon the room was engulfed in light, and a doorway constructed of white light magic appeared. "Follow me." He ordered, and then he entered the doorway, disappearing. 

Hesitantly sharing a few looks, the brothers entered after him. 

"This is the Sacred Realm." The Emperor told his children, as he walked up a long road to a massive temple on the hill. The surrounding landscape was dotted with dead trees and dry grasses, the sky a gold color blanketed with grey clouds. The brothers and their father walked in silence up to the temple, their eyes keeping watch on the surrounding area. 

"Why... is everything dead?" Daphnes asked quietly. 

The Emperor stopped, and looked at his youngest son. "I don't know. Our most ancient records state that the Sacred Realm was lush and green... it may be that it once was, but it is very old." He looked up to the storm clouds above. "And though the clouds storm, it never rains. This might simply be the way of the Sacred Realm."

"I see."

They made their way into the Temple, and the eight men beheld the three golden triangles that slowly rotated in place in the temple. Each one was covered in dark lines that spread across the surfaces like vines. "This is the Triforce. The Gift the Goddesses gave to us."

"...The Goddesses... don't really exist, do they?" One of his sons asked incredulously. "I thought the Triforce was a myth, some kind of ancient-"

"SILENT!" Harkinian growled. "You dare to blaspheme them in their own temple?"

"But, I thought-"

Harkinian sighed. "This is my fault." He said sadly. "My own father did not tell me of the Triforce until it was time for me to be crowned king, and by then I had already sent each of you on your way... I had always thought the Goddesses legends, used to excuse the festivals... but the Triforce proves they at least existed at once point."

"So... this is the source of our prosperity?"

The Emperor nodded. "Each generation, as the new Emperor is crowned, they come into the Sacred Realm, and they must wish success for Hyrule. You _must_ wish for our Empire to continue to prosper and expand, for us to excel in battle and receive the blessings of courage, power, and wisdom, with which to destroy our enemies and ensure the continuance of our Empire forever!"

"Yes father!"

"This, in fact, might be the most important action you will ever take. The most important duty of the Emperor." He gave a short bow to his sons, who returned the gesture more deeply. "No matter who is declared Emperor, I hope to see you fulfil your duty to Hyrule's continuing dominance over the world."

As he spoke, no one noticed as the black lines on the Triforce grew, clouding out more and more gold with darkness.

* * *

 

The realm of the Gods was unlike any other realm. Most gods had their own realm, which they rarely left, but the realm where the Gods met was one that stood out. The temple there existed for all of eternity, a seat held open for every God that had, or ever would, come into existence, no matter how malicious or antisocial, whether they were yet to be sparked or had long since been destroyed or sealed away. 

The three greatest seats belonged to Nayru, Din, and Farore. Lining the table were various lesser Gods' seats. An empty golden throne served as a momento of Hylia, and smaller similar ones had her servants Eldin, Lanayru, Faron, and Ordona sitting. Various protector spirits, elemental beings, and patron gods of specific realms had their own places at the table of the Gods. Sitting across from them were the four Giants of Termina.

"I have had enough!" Farore screamed to the council. "They have perverted all I stand for!" In her hands an image of the great Colloseum, the Farore Arena, stood. She reached out to crush it, and with her power, she could have, but her own love for the lives of all the creatures in it stalled her hands. "Something _must_ be done!"

Nayru and Din were less vocal in their own discontent with Hyrule's progress. The Hylians had become the leaders in both intellectuals and warfare, something the two other Golden Goddesses could be proud of, but all the same "They have misused the Triforce's power." Nayru agreed. "And thrown the world out of balance." This received a number of cheers and cries from the various guardian gods of nations Hyrule had subjugated. Some even had began to fade as their worshippers were wiped out. 

Din nodded in assent. "I have been fond of this version of Hyrule, but they have trampled too many of my favored races." She shrugged. "This too, is Power, but they do not value their strength as they should, they do not listen to the land." She frowned. "Hyrule must be stopped from continuing in this direction, ahead will only follow entropy and stagnation, as all enemies are defeated."

"Send a flood!" Shouted a water spirit.

"Send earthquakes to destroy their temples!" Roared a wind spirit. 

"Visit them with misfortune!"

"Disaster!"

"Plagues!"

"Curses!"

"The Emperor of Hyrule holds the Triforce." Nayru stated. "And as such, they have power over the lands of Hyrule, and their wishes are fueled with our own eternal power, no matter how much they corrupt it. No disaster will last longer than til the next coronation."

One of the angry spirits cried "Then send death to the Emperor's family!"

Din shook her head. "We gave to Hylia the Triforce to protect. She became a mortal so as to guide the Hylians in its use, although the mortals have suppressed her guidance for centuries. All the same, Hylia, our honored Golden daughter, resides in the soul of Zelda. We will not allow the Hyrule Royal family line to be stopped, and thus end the life of our own daughter Goddess!"

The Goddess of the Sands stood, and frowned at Din. "She gave up her Godhood! She has existed as a mortal now longer than she had as a divine! Allow her soul to rest, Golden Goddesses!" She froze, however, as a sword impacted the table in front of her. Every head turned as one toward the God who would dare to threaten another at the table. 

They turned back around, not wanting to meet His eyes. 

The Fierce Deity jumped up onto the table, and walked calmly over to the seat of the Sands Goddess. He pulled his sword from the table and sheathed it on his back. He addressed everyone at the table in a quiet voice. " **There will be no move made to kill Hylia. No move to end her reincarnation. Under any circumstance.** " The words shuddered with rage, and he returned to his seat, and resumed his previous position, arms crossed, eyes wide open and unblinking. 

"He hadn't moved or said a word in the past two millenia." One of the Four Giants said, surprised. 

The Goddess of Sands merely nodded meekly and sat down.

Din smiled at the Fierce Deity, before looking back over the table. "Destroying the Royal Family completely is unacceptable. Throwing disasters upon Hyrule will not be effective. The power of the Triforce undermines the powers of any God beside me and my sisters, and we cannot interfere with the Triforce's power, as it is our own..."

Nayru thought, and then smiled. "Then we remove the Triforce from the hands of the Royal Family. Hyrule is in a time of need, is it not?"

"Indeed the nation is in a time of need when it's Heirs mutter blasphemy from even within the Sacred Realm." Farore muttered.

"Then it is in need... of a wise Princess, to set them on the right path." Nayru said, smiling mischievously. 

Farore's eyes lit up. "Hyrule... is in need of a Hero."

Din's grin was wide and gleeful. "What it needs, more than anything else is a _damn villain!_ " Her gleeful cry was met with jubilation from the vengeful spirits. 

Nayru nodded. "And so the Emperor will not own the Triforce, but rather the Bearers."


	2. Chapter 2

"Wake up kid. Meal time."

He slid off the lump of wood and cloth that was his bed and groaned as he followed the guard out of his cell door by his shackles, which he was annoyed to find out, no one had remembered to come and remove. He was led to a large mess hall where the Gladiators-to-be ate in apprehensive silence. 

The boy sat down on a wooden bench, rattling his chains, and waited for the kart containing the soup that was apparently their breakfast to make its rounds to him. 

Trying to blink the sleep from his eyes, he gave a deep sigh. There was an oppressive air of despair resounding through the chamber. The people in this chamber, this common messhall directly attached to the tiny holding cells, were all former slaves. Old men, young boys, trouble makers, or clumsy, or simply the least valuable when it came time to make a show of support for the Crown by donating the festival. 

That was how the boy came to be here. A minor noble family of merchants had owned his own family for generations. However, with his mother dying in childbirth, his father taken by disease, and his uncle being executed for daring to steal from his owners- trying to sneak the boy out of town when he was sleeping- he was the last of his family. An unlucky slave child with clumsy hands. When Spring rolled around, and talks of the gladiator tournaments and grand spectacles were being made, his owner branded him as a donation to the festival of Courage and sent him off to the Capitol along with the taxes. 

It was unfair, he decided, but that went for everyone else in the room as well. 

After eating, they were led into a training hall. While all the gladiators were technically expendable, it still wasn't nearly as fun to see someone utterly unskilled in the arena as someone able to put up some kind of fight. So the slaves, most of whom never touched a sword in their life, let alone swung one, were being 'trained'. The boy joined the others in picking up blunted weapons and watched as more experienced gladiators gave demonstrations of proper techniques and shouted advice down to them. 

He contemplated grabbing a practice sword and shield and trying to bust out. He knew it was incredibly rare for a prisoner to escape the arena, and that doing so almost certainly would earn him a painful public execution. Honestly, it was a doomed effort. The boy knew that if he wanted the best chance of survival, if he wanted to live as comfortably as possible, he should just follow the crowd, train, and pray like everyone else he wouldn't be required to fight often-

"Ah screw it." 

Grabbing a sword about the right size, and a shield, and a ball & chain, he maneuvered close to the balconies where the guards would watch the prisoners with bows to make sure none of them tried anything. 

The boy then tried something. 

Swinging the spiked ball upward, he looped it around one of the wooden supports holding it up, to do so he had to let go of the stick at the end of the chain, but after getting a small running start he managed to push himself up the support beam and grab hold of his stick. Kicking off the wall, he swung himself almost to the edge of the balcony, where he promptly let go of the chain and caught himself on the ledge. 

"Hey! What do you think you're doing-"

Pulling himself up he quickly raised his simple wooden training shield, blocking two, then four arrows that penetrated into it. He could see the metal points sticking out of the back of the shield. Charging at them with his sword, he shattered the bow of the first guard before taking him out with a kick to the chest. As the guard crumpled, the boy jumped off of him, doing a downward strike with his wooden sword and knocking the second guard on the head hard enough to leave him dizzy. All the boy had to do then was catch the man's leg with his foot to send the soldier tumbling off the balcony and into the training hall. 

He spared only a glance downwards, and felt a little disappointed that his fellow prisoners weren't attempting to mob the guard and join his revolt or anything like that. More arrows came flying at him, and he resorted to using both the wooden sword and the shield to block them. With each blow, the simply made tools became more brittle. It was only a matter of time really til they would give out. He took out two more guards before feeling winded himself. With another attempted blow to a helmeted head, the boy's wooden sword splintered, and with another few attempts at getting him with the arrows his shield partially split, leaving him with only a third of the cover he had before.

Seeing no other options, the boy threw the shield as hard as he could at the second-to-last guard's face. Breaking his nose, the boy rushed the guard and punched him until he was unconscious. Looking up, he noticed the last guard had run for it. Swearing, he pulled on some loose-fitting armor from the nose-bleeding guard and rushed out the door. Thinking twice, he jumped back into the room and looked down at the other former slaves. "Hey! Can someone throw me another sword!?"

They stared at him, some in shock, others in pity, others in fear for their own fates.

He sighed and continued weaponless on his previous path.

Farore's Arena's underground was an incredibly large labyrinth. And unfortunately, the boy had no map. The next group of guards he ran across were armed better, carrying clubs, batons, spears and swords. Relying on the loose armor, the boy crashed himself into the group, trying to steal a weapon, any weapon, but instead he found himself forced to the ground. The armor was stripped away, and then the guards began to whale on him. Stomping, kicking, picking him up and tossing him back on the ground. By the end of the ordeal, the boy was barely conscious.

* * *

 

"Hm. He climbed out of the training room and took out five guards? With only a wooden sword and shield?" The warden asked, his smile growing wider and wider. He reached down, grabbing the boy's chin and raising his face. "And how lucky, they didn't even mess up your face! You're handsome, very young, strong, and Hylian!"

"Sir, what should be done with him?"

"Well, obviously he's something special. Throwing the riff-raff at him will result in a victory for him for sure." He grinned. "Put him in the main event area."

* * *

"You can't make me do this!"

"Obviously, we can." The Guard replied, tying the chest plate to him. The entire process had been humiliating. He had been stripped, chained up, and then had armor forcibly put on him. 

"I'm not going to kill anyone!"

"That's fine. They'll just kill you then." The Guard said sadistically. Everything in place, he began to untie the child. "And they will, you know. Not everyone's as stupid as you, even the other numbskulls they brought you in with could kill someone in the arena. It's where you go to die."

"I'm going to make trouble!" The boy growled. "I'm going to swear at the Emperor and badmouth the Empire and curse Farore!"

"Oh-ho, now that, my friend, will get you shot down." The guard smiled, "Y'see. The festival's very important to the Emperor. There's no cowardice allowed in Farore's Arena. Trying to run away, refusing to go through with it, and especially insulting the Goddess herself, that'll get the archers to take you out where you stand. It's not sporting you see, but the best way to punish cowardice is to-"

"Threaten people? You're trying to make me afraid. You're telling me how I'll be punished if I stand up against you! Me doing those things anyway...  _That's_ courage." The boy said proudly. 

The guard simply rolled his eyes "No, that's stupidity. Courage is being determined enough to kill another man when it'd be easier to just give up and die. Courage is facing the arena day after day, courage is surviving through the pain, instead of ending it."

"No, that's stupidity." The boy mocked, sticking out his tongue. The guard surprised him however by grabbing his tongue and pinching down on it hard. 

"What's stupidity, is you wagging this thing around, trying to be philosophical." He let go of his tongue and went back to his work, going through a collection of green clothing, putting them on the boy, and then, being unsatisfied, going to get something else. 

"Hey!" Another shouted, passing by the cell. "Is he ready yet? They're ready to march out the next group."

"...Yeah. Tell the archers to watch him. He's a special kind of idiot who likes to trick himself into thinking he's smart."

"Got it." The sadist passed the child on to his comrade, and the boy found himself joining a line of exotic looking figures. Beasts of men, some of them, other's uncommonly handsome. 

All recent additions that had been declared *special*. 

"Now then!" A handler announced. "Each of you are what the warden has called potential champions. He's separated you from the trash of the rest of the prison because he thinks you show potential! If you want to live comfortably within the arena, or even get out, you prove that you can live up to this potential!" He slammed a wooden doll next to him with his hand. "This means you're all going to practice, and hard, so that when the crowds come to see you, you can give them a good show! This is Farore's Arena! Always show Courage!"

* * *

 

The trainer stared down at the child holding the sword. The boy had thought originally he should use the weapons to make a rush for it and escape, using the actual blade and actual shield the arena provided, but just from looking he knew the security here would be tighter. They'd be able to kill him way before he ever got out. 

He was willing to risk his life to escape, obviously, but with nothing on the line but being forced to spend more time in the rooms below the arena he wouldn't exactly go out and take chances he labeled outright suicidal. And so he stayed, and swung the sword and blocked with his shield, and his trainers all seemed shocked and impressed. 

"You're technique and strength are unnatural. I can tell from just how clumsy you are that you haven't been trained well in swordsmanship, but you are all the same quite skilled in taking down your opponents with whatever you have available." The old man, who had trained gladiators for many years, smiled. "You treat it like a tool, rather than a weapon."

The boy didn't say anything. 

"You shouldn't treat a sword that way, you know." The old man said sagely. "When a weapon is forged, it's master labors over it for days, learning its every detail and its fabric of being. When a sword is forged, so is a soul. It's not something like a hammer or rope, which is made thoughtlessly. You treat a sword with respect, and it'll serve you far better."

The boy merely shrugged, and then made a deep chop into the wood. He and the trainer frowned at the same time. "What did I just say! Treat it with respect!"

"Not at all the right thing for cutting wood." The child mumbled. 

The trainer shook his head. "You're skilled enough to excel against most in the arena. But you'll be slaughtered by anyone with real talent. You'll do well, but not well enough, if you continue to ignore this training. The goal is not to break the dummy, or to dull the sword. The goal is not even to finish the training." The old man leaned over the child. "The goal, boy, is to become more skilled in using a sword!"

A light seemed to appear behind his eyes, and the boy almost smiled. "Alright then."

* * *

 

Weeks passed, and unfortunately, the boy found himself growing used to the pattern. About every week, one or two of the special fighters would be sent out, and the rest trained and trained. They had numerous trainers, each. The old man had been in charge of teaching the kid how to fight, but there was also a trainer who taught him how to look confident in the arena, and what to say to Nobles, to the Emperor, and to various peoples who wanted to talk to him for some reason or another. As a former slave and as a gladiator, he was beneath anyone who could get permission to see him, which meant a lot of training in how to seem obedient and humble, while still seeming powerful. 

These lessons were made both easier and more difficult by his being a child. 

Eventually, it came time for him to go into the Arena himself. The path up to it was long, but well cared for. The steps had been worn smooth by the foot steps of hundreds and hundreds of men over the ages. The underground dungeon opened up to the main Arena in well over a hundred places, but there were eight main gates. Four for gladiators, two for parades, and two for monsters or beasts. 

The boy was praying to Farore that he would only have to face monsters.

The Arena floor was separated into various sections. Around its edge was a track where races would be held, on foot, or in chariots. In the very center was a podium that could be lifted into the air or sunk into the ground by turning a wheel underground. This podium was a place for an announcer to speak from, or could be a special ring for fighters, where falling out of the ring would mean falling to your death. The rest of the ground, between the circular track and the podium in the center, was mostly stone, and could be separated into four equal-sized sections with iron gates that could be pushed from the ground by a different mechanism underground. 

In all the speeches given to him, despite having never seen it with his own eyes, he found himself able to recognize every bit of it. 

Outside of the track were massive, sheer walls. The only openings were the gates, and holes built specifically for guards to fire arrows out of it toward any spot on the Arena floor. On the top of those walls were the stands. Most gladiatorial arenas in Hyrule would have seating for maybe a thousand, depending on the size of the town, but the ones in Hyrule Castle Town was built to hold hundreds of thousands, and during the Courage Festival, every day it would hold even more than it was built for. As the spring festival approached more and more people would filter into the stands to see the various daily events. During the winter, even, the stands would not be completely empty as long as a battle was held. 

And, with the festival close, the stands were nearly 8/10ths full. The sounds of the crowds was deafening, and a new wave of sound came with every gladiator that left the tunnel to stand on the Arena floor. The boy did as he had been trained, and marched forward with the other gladiators around him. They lined up near the center of the floor, and would stand to wait for the signal. 

As he was a special case, no one had bothered to tell him what exactly his first event would entail. The guards sadistically told him that seeing the surprise and shock on his face would be better fun for the audience. But the other gladiators with him, likely former slaves and prisoners, all were incredibly nervous, and watched the monster gates in anticipation. 

As the podium sank away into the ground, and one of the massive monster gates opened,  screaming in fury,  a half-dozen Moblins rushed out, only to be jerked when they reached the edge of their chains. "From the far reaches of the world! From the darkest forests outside Hyrule, the demonic Moblins!" Shouted an announcer, his voice carried magically over the crowds. The other gladiators jumped back in fear as soon as the Moblins made their appearance.

No demons appeared in Hyrule itself, but they gathered in massive amounts around the Empire's border. Each one had been forced along a long and difficult path to Castle Town and the arena. Each one of the Moblins were filled to the brim with rage, and struggled against their chains, waving their forks and spears wildly, some even throwing their weapons at the just-out-of-range gladiators. 

"The rules of the match are simple! Complete elimination! Twelve gladiators, all Hylian champions in the making, against six Moblins, fierce demons!" The announcer continued. "Only one side will have any survivors!"

The former slaves began shivering in fear, staring at the demons. "Show Courage, Hylians!" The announcer finished. And with that the cheering began anew, and a heavily armored handler pulled a pin that held all the chains together, and with that, the Moblins were free.

* * *

The Gods watched with interest. For centuries,  the Triforce's magic prevented demons from spawning  anywhere under its influence, and with each generation, that influence spread. In order to get demons for their arena, the Hylians had to capture demons in the few lands not belonging to Hyrule and bring them physically into the land's heart. 

For centuries, the demons would be weakened substantially the closer they got to the Holy Light that repelled them. 

But now, that the Triforce had broken, had been sent to its individual bearers, there was nothing to weaken the demons. 

Farore in particular grimaced as she knew that the battles in the accursed Arena would be crueler and more bloody than ever.  However, she decided it would be worth it, for Nayru assured her this would result in the Arena's destruction. 

Farore watched the demons meet with the human gladiators and let out a sorrowful sound as four of the Hylian souls instantly passed into the afterlife. Staring at her chosen hero, she cupped her hands together. "You have my guidance, child." She said quietly. "Take Courage in the Light."

* * *

 

Already four of the gladiators were dead. The Moblins rushed them as a single unit, spears and tridents outstretched. The boy jumped backwards and growled. What he wanted to do was let the other fighters keep the monsters busy while he went to the side, away from the spear points, and trying to kill as many of the monsters while they weren't facing him head on, but he knew the other gladiators would get slaughtered without him. Already, almost instinctually, he had moved closer than the others, keeping the Moblins' focus on himself and batting away tridents and spearheads when they reached past him. 

All he had himself though was a sword and a shield. It was lucky that the demons didn't wear much beyond rags in regards to armor, or the situation would have been next to hopeless. "Attack them from the sides!" The boy shouted at the other gladiators. One of them seemed to regain some of his composure faster than the others and broke from the group, running a wide circle at aiming at the back of the Moblin group. 

The gladiator let out a shout as he stabbed a Moblin in the back, but the monster merely howled, and turned around to glare at his attacker. The gladiator swore and began to backpedal, but the injured Moblin and two others ran after him, somehow even angrier than they already were. 

The brave gladiator was almost certainly doomed, but he did succeed in breaking up the group. The boy and the six other Hylians overwhelmed the three Moblins that had stayed behind. The boy gave the killing blow to one of the monsters, and defended another of the Hylians as they killed the other two. Then the group,  now more confident, having successfully defeated half the monsters,  rushed to help  the first gladiator.

The battle only ended up lasting seven minutes, but it was a bloody one. In the end, Only half of the Hylian gladiators survived the battle. The boy stared at the dead bodies with a feeling of dread growing in his stomach. He supposed he would have to get used to that sight. 

"Congratulations!" The announcer shouted. "Eveyone, give this proud team a hand!" The crowd seemed to respond with vigor, and even the magically charged voice of the announcer was drowned out by the applause. "Now then! You were promised a spectacle, weren't you, proud men of Hyrule?" A roar of agreement. "A twelve on six fight, with mere Moblins? For first-timers, indeed a challenge!"

The other gladiators, who had briefly cheered up at their success, began to freeze up and stare at the announcer in horror. "But not a spectacle! Every day, you can see Hylians duel simple demons! But, are there any who can defeat the mighty Moldorm!?" A closed monster gate shook dramatically in response. "This demon is from a far off desert, where it preys upon travelers! It's fearsome red eyes have been the last thing many a men have seen!" He pointed toward the team of six. "It is said that only with more than a dozen men could one hope to face a Moldorm, and well, we gave you what was required!" Some laughs rang out from the stands, and the doors of the other monster gate shook once more. 

The announcer gave a cue, and the musicians lining the bottom of the stands began a hard resounding beat on their drums. The tempo became faster and faster and the Moldorm seemed to react in turn, shaking the door over and over, until the gate burst open. 

Most of the gladiators screamed as the massive bug-like creature gave a resounding roar that shook their bones, before it began charging in wide zig-zags, bouncing off walls and crashing into the podium's pillar, before it turned to the group. "Split up!" The boy shouted, and as he was the one who led them to victory against the Moblins, they obeyed, running in different directions. The Moldorm's eyes glowed a deep red as it caught sight of the half-dozen green clad fighters and changed direction to charge at them. Its tackle bounced back the gladiators, sending them sprawling to their feet, winded and bruised. Continuing its charge, it bounced against another wall and spun around to finish them off. The boy called for them to get up, and the group ran, forcing the giant bug creature to pick and choose among them. Turning to follow a somewhat short man, it roared and knocked him over, and then made a sharp turn and ran over the man once more.

Sensing he was down for the count, the monster turned toward the next closest warrior and followed at a breakneck pace. This gladiator dodged to the side as it passed him, but once again the insectoid demon coiled and turned its body around. Seeing no choice, the gladiator swung his sword. It bounced off the shell of the monster, and into the glowing red tail of the beast. As soon as the steel brushed it, the creature gave a low hiss and shot past the gladiator, not bothering to finish him off in its mad dash. 

The boy's eyes widened with hope, and he smiled. "The tail! Go for the tail!"

The others, taking notice, began to get closer to the monster. "Wait for it to attack, dodge, and then strike its tail!" The boy screamed, joining up with them. The Moldorm had reached the opposite wall, and with a crash spun back around to face them. Its eyes burned even brighter. Hungry for blood. 

Its charge was a wild one, and though it knocked away three of the gladiators, the other two both got strong hits against its weak spot. The pattern was clear now. Helping the three who had taken the attack back to their feet, the child waited for the next turn of the attack. The demon hit the far wall and reversed, shooting towards them even faster. Seeing it coming this time around, all five dodged the initial charge, but the creature began turning as soon as it realized it passed them, coiling around two gladiators in the process. The two wildly swung their swords and bashed with their shields attempting to reach the tail, but the legs of the creature got in the way, and the coil only grew tighter. 

"No!" The child screamed, watching as the two were crushed to death by the monster. Screaming in rage, he mimicked the beast, charging straight on towards it. It was only beginning to uncoil, and as the end of its tail passed the boy by, he took the opportunity and jumped up, taking his sword in both hands and forcing it down into the tail with all his weight. It pierced straight through and into the ground below it. Letting out a tortured screech, the insect struggled, beginning to move in one direction, then the other, and stopping when it pulled its weakpoint along the blade. "Come on." The said, and the remaining two adult gladiators silently followed, in awe of the boy's confidence now that the monster was pinned. 

Picking up one of the Moblin's discarded tridents, he forced it under one struggling leg, and began pushing. "Help me!" He called, and soon the two men joined him. With their combined effort, and the Moldorm's own immobility, they flipped it onto its side. Taking the trident, the boy screamed at the top of his lungs and forced the weapon into the softer underbelly of the creature. The screeching stopped immediately, and the Moldorm became still. 

Sighing, the boy let himself sit down on the dirt and try to regain his composure. The other two survivors of the brutal match stood off to the side of him, still watching the monster doors with their weapons tightly gripped. It was only when the announcer's podium lowered that they could breathe sighs of relief. The drums changed to an upbeat, victorious tune. 

The announcer approached them, smiling widely. "An excellent display! A miraculous battle! With just the might of three people you've defeated a demon thought to be able to slaughter twelve!" He turned to the audience, spreading his arms wide. "What Courageous champions in the making!" The crowds seemed to agree. "Absolutely incredible! But, more than anyone else, what's amazing is you, boy, or should I say now, man!" He clapped the child's shoulder, and grabbed his hand, stretching it upwards. The crowds roared with approval. "Tell me young warrior, what is your name!? If you can defeat a Moldorm at the age of twelve, I should imagine he'll topple the Champ by age eighteen! I'd like to know the name of a future Champion!" He held the sea shell to the boy's face, and gestured for him to speak into it. 

"My name is Link." The boy answered. "And... I have no interest in becoming the 'champ', age eighteen or otherwise." He said quietly. 

"Oh come now! Don't be like that!" The announcer said, his voice dripping with disapointment. Some boos and laughter came from the crowds. "Don't quit when you've won the first fight of your life!"

"I have no interest in the champ." He said, again. Before smiling widely at the audience and grabbing the sea shell away from the announcer. "Because humans are too weak! I am Link, and I'm only interested in killing the biggest and worst monsters you can throw at me! Alone, if you want!" He nearly shouted into the shell. "I am Link, slayer of Demons!"

The announcer grinned, his eyes glinting with the beginnings of a story.

"There we have it, honorable ladies and gentlemen of Hyrule! The Champ's not a big enough goal for this little Demon Slayer! The worst monsters available aren't enough to scare him, and what else is more beloved in the Arena of the Goddess of Courage!?"

Link smiled. With this, hopefully, they'd never try to make him kill a person. Looking at the body of the Moldorm, he wondered if he was perhaps making a bigger mistake. Being eaten or torn up by a monster wouldn't be a pleasant fate either... but strange enough. He wasn't afraid in the slightest. The Moldorm's corpse didn't make him fee anything but a slight amount of triumph. 

It might be a while before he escaped. If he could, why not see how far he could go?

No one noticed, in the bright sunlight, the golden glow on his left hand. 


	3. Chapter 3

His first match ended quickly. 

They wheeled him out like a wild beast, chained to the kart and bound with steel and leather. There were two Hylians waiting there, experienced gladiators who had survived hundreds of matches. The audience was massive, the arena grounds massive, the sunlight harsh and the sounds oppressive.

The announcer dragged on and on, making a lewd joke about the Gerudo tribe, and mocking his status of Chief. He then spoke on and on of the accomplishments of the two Hylian warriors.

He quickly forgot their names.

He was unchained, unlocked, and left to stand on his own for the first time in many days. Grinning for this small victory, he stretched his aching limbs and groaned as his muscles finally got to relax. 

"Fight! For the Honor of Farore!" The announcer finished. The first of the two Hylians charged at him, bearing a long sword. The Gerudo frowned and cloaked his hands in dark magic before catching and snapping the blade. The Hylian barely had time to swear before he punched the gladiator in the face. The magic disapeared shortly after, but the effect was enough to send the man flying at high speed into the wall. 

Turning his gold eyes to the second, and last, gladiator, he simply walked forward, daring the man to attack. Taking the bait, but watching his hands, the gladiator went forward, swinging his mace to collide with the Gerudo's head. But the arc was interrupted as the Hylian was shot backwards from a dark-magic cloaked kick from the Gerudo. 

Both were on the ground, injured and groaning. The crowd was somehow quieter than before. There were quite a number screeching, but many had gone silent. "A-Amazing!" The announcer said nervously. "An awesome display of might! Tell us, your Majesty, how-"

He wrenched the shell from his hands. "Don't mock me. I am the Chief of the Gerudo. We have long since abandoned the primitive and simplistic notion of Kings or Emperors." He growled, and the announcer tried to grab back the shell.

"You're making a mistake, you can't say things like that in the capitol-" the announcer cautioned, whispering.

"I am already in the Arena! The grandest execution grounds you monstrous Hylians possess!" He roared, and the crowd was beginning to boo him now. "What more can I fear from you?! Torture?! HAH!" He turned to the crowds. "Hypocrites and Sadists!" He hissed. "This Arena is a tool of intimidation! To inspire nothing but fear and death!" He spit downwards. "The Gerudo do not worship the Three Goddesses, but we know of their legends! This arena is a blasphemy against Farore!"

"Get him out of here!" The announcer growled. Arrows began to be launched from the walls of the arena. Built specifically to end gladiators saying troublesome things. 

The arrows merely bounced off the Gerudo, his magic appearing in bursts to shield him or simply swatting arrows out of the air. Gripping the chains, he began to pull the cart with him. Swinging it in a wide circle, he let go and sent it flying toward the stands. The audience in that part of the arena, and many others, began to rush to get out of the way, to run from the mad gladiator attacking the stands and badmouthing the Emperor. "COWARDS!" He roared. "HYLIANS!" He screamed. "I am no spectacle! You will feel my wrath!"

The announcer ran for it, getting accepted into one of the gates and shutting it behind him. 

Soon, the parade gate opened and the Capitol's military police entered the tournament grounds, including multiple mages who shut down his magic. The small army forced him down and chained him once more, delivering him back to the Arena's dungeons. 

* * *

 

"I am so sorry, your Highness!" The warden said, bowing deeply. "The man was an idiot! Anyone with sense would not dare to question you or the festival! He will executed at once! Silently!"

The Emperor merely smiled, amused. "Why would you be so wasteful? I am told he fell two mighty gladiators with only a single blow for each. And the Arena is a place that pays honor to the courageous, is it not?"

"Of course, my Emperor."

"He was disrespectful, of course. But we can use that. He is a foreigner, and a powerful one." He grinned. "The Arena is a symbol of Hyrule's power. The Colosseum has been a tradition inherent to Hyrule for generations! He has insulted it, insulted Hylians, and insulted Hyrule. This Gerudo might in fact be the most hated man in the capitol... and with the Spring Festival coming up, and the tournament... don't you always love setting up these stories?"

"The Heel." The warden said. "But, you Majesty, if I may speak frankly..."

"Go on."

"It... won't work. The prisoner is... too strong. I think none of our gladiators would be able to beat him fairly. And beyond that, it requires a certain level of acting. He earnestly hates our nation, if he realizes we're using him, he'll tell the audience so. He'll either refuse to play the part, or scream to them that they are being manipulated." The warden shook his head. "In order for a Heel to work, they must ultimately lose, and they must not expose their role as a character."

The old man raised his eyebrows. "I'm not one to turn away from opportunities like this... what about that new gladiator everyone is so excited about? The child, who calls himself-"

"Link, the Demon Slayer." The warden said, a little bit of warmth in his voice. "He... proved to do exceptionally, almost miraculously well against the Moldorm. In fact, I believe that someone must have told him how to kill a Moldorm before he went into the arena. He was still surprised, I'm sure, I don't think he knew what was coming, but he killed it... as if he had done so before. As if how to kill a rampaging demon was a simple process to learn."

"If you believe none of our current gladiators will succeed, then what of this 'demon slayer'?"

"If... perhaps..." The warden seemed to think. 

"And if the Gerudo won't play the part, find something that will convince him to." The Emperor ordered. I fear I am getting on in years. The Festivals are the only things I look forward to, from year to year. The Epics played out on the stage in Winter, the miracles performed in the Summer, and the wonderful battles and stories built around them in the Spring... I want my last few festivals to be good ones, understand?"

"I... I do, your Highness."

"...Me and my family will be watching the games closely, from now on. I hope you make them good ones."

* * *

 

"Gerudo!" The Warden hissed, splashing him with water to wake him up.

"Ah, if it isn't the man I will make drown in his own blood." He said simply. "Here to execute me? Did the audience like my show?"

"Yes. They did, in fact." The Warden growled. "And so did the Emperor." The prisoner's grin became wider. "Now, then, why don't you tell me your name."

"Ganondorf Dragmire." He said proudly. 

"Tell me, mister Ganondorf, do the Gerudo carry family names? I assume the women are the ones to pass their names down, as your tribe is fabled to be without men."

"Yes. There is no blood more powerful than the Gerudo's. We invite our spouses from other tribes, but all the children born are pure Gerudo."

"But do you have family names? Would siblings bear the same title?"

"...Yes. Why?"

The warden gave an evil grin. He pulled out a scroll, and walked over to the torch to read in the light. "Lanyr Dragmire." Ganondorf became deadly silent. "Tirova Dragmire. Naveil Dragmire. Hilda Dragmire." The warden shook the paper. "Do you know these names?"

The chains made horrible noises as Ganondorf pushed against them, the wooden post he was tied to, thick as a tree trunk, began to groan as he attempted to splinter it. The magically-placed seals shined with white light as they cancelled out his own attempted magics. 

"I'll take that as a yes." He said. "I have a proposition for you. The people of the capitol hate you, you know. But we can use hate. You're going to put on a show." He said dangerously. "You are going to be my villain, and during the Spring Festival, you will be the best villain you can be. You will win when I tell you to. You will say what I tell you to. And when I don't give your orders, you are to play your part the best you can. Understand? Or else the Gerudo slaves I've just named will just be memories."

"Tell me what you've done to them." Ganondorf hissed. "Or I won't do anything you say."

"Hm..." He looked down at the scroll. "Tirova and Naveil are both here, in the arena! How accessible. Lanyr is a... hostess, at one of Castle Town's most _respected_ establishments." His grin was downright oozing with sadism. "And Hilda... oh my, it seems she's out of my reach. She was made into a gift for the Emperor a dozen years ago, and no one's heard about her since. I think I told you about her, didn't I? That was when you promised to drown me in my own blood."

"..." 

"So I can only really guarantee the safety of three of your family members... are you not convinced? How about I sweeten the deal? If you do what I ask of you, I shall buy Lanyr back from the brothel, and all three of them will remain safely here in the dungeons. And then if you do everything I say... when I am done with you, I shall release those three alongside you from the arena, and you may return to whatever filthy backwater you came from."

"I'll... do what you say. But only if you free along with them every Gerudo you hold here, not just the Dragmires."

"Hm... that, I'm afraid, will be extra." He grinned. 

"What do you want?!" Ganondorf screamed. "I cannot allow _any_ of my people to remain in this accursed Arena!"

"...Then die for me, when I am done with you." He said harshly. "You will make yourself the greatest villain this arena has ever known, killing all I tell you to, defeating without harming all I tell you to. And at the end, when I tell you to, you will allow yourself to be killed, so that the 'villain' will be defeated."

"How can I know you'll release my women after I'm dead!?"

"The Emperor himself shall promise you. In front of the people of the Arena, if you wish." The warden's eyes lit up. "I know! It can be his great act of mercy. You will show the audience how cruel you are by disowning your subjects, and the Emperor will promise the audience that he shall send home all the Gerudo in Hyrule, out of pity, for having to have lived under such an Evil King."

His pain showed clearly on his face, but he bowed his head. "Fine. I'll do what you want... but I need no script. I am more than capable of playing the part of the enemy of Hyrule."

"Alright, but if you get too smart with the audience, it'll be your witches who feel the burn."

"I... understand." He growled out. "I understand quite well."

"And of course, there'll be no more threatening me. In fact, I want an apology."

"I am sorry." He ground out. 

"Sorry for what?"

"For promising that I would drown you in your own blood," Ganondorf growled "I apologize."

"Good. In two days you'll have another match. A batch of former slaves." He raised an eyebrow. "You're going to slaughter them. Play up the cruelty."

"I... will."

The warden laughed as he walked away, carrying the scroll and the torch with him. 


	4. Chapter 4

Daphnes frowned. There were always brief periods of this kind of treatment. They came in unpredictable cycles, but they always followed the same patterns. For months at a time everything would be as normal, he was paid the respect due to his rank and birth. But then _something_ would happen, and the cycle would begin anew. The servants would pause when they saw him coming and avert their eyes. They would stare at the ground, and back away from him. Even those he spoke with the most often, was friendliest with, would do so. The other workers in the castle would be the same. Hushed whispers, hastily dropped fingers, their eyes were either ashamed or judgmental.

And there would be a word, a name, that he would hear over, and over, and over. 

Zelda. 

Firstborn daughter of the Royal Family. 

An Honored name. A blessed name. Held for all of history. A name that was nearly as ancient and legendary as the name Hylia. And just as key in Hyrule's history. 

And she wasn't even a pureblooded Hylian. 

He was barely nineteen when it happened. All of the sons of the Emperor had their harems, their concubines. Their father had had his own, years before he had his arranged marriage to who would be his official wife. It was normal. And what was the purpose, of concubines, than to provide the greatest number of potential healthy heirs?

It just so happened that the Emperor had bought a foreigner woman delivered to the arena, and gave her to his son. Not unusual. And Daphnes made love to her, as it was his right to do so. She became pregnant, which he supposed could have been avoided, but he had thought in the long scheme it wouldn't matter much. Each of his older brothers had at least one son of their own, and Daphnes himself would have more children with more noble women. 

When his firstborn turned out to be a girl, he thought it was more fortune. She wouldn't threaten any future pure-Hylian heirs for their position then. She would grow up in the shadow of her other siblings, and although there would be some shame relating to her skin, eyes, and hair, she would be married off easily enough to some Noble who didn't mind an exotic wife, as long as she also had Noble blood. 

The problem was that she was the first girl born of that generation, and as such, his little Tetra was personally renamed by the Emperor, his father, her grandfather, as Princess Zelda. 

Princess Zelda, the carrier of the name of the founder of the Hyrule Royal Family, was not even purely Hylian. It was an outrage, it was an embarrassment. The townsfolk for generations would always adore their generation's Princess Zelda. Nobles had fought hard and long to earn enough favor to have their sons marry their generation's Princess Zelda. The firstborn Princess of Hyrule had, for all of recorded history, been given nearly as much honor and prestige as the Emperor's sons. The name held power, held history, held honor, held, more than anything else, importance and relevance. 

And so his embarrassment was constantly known to all around him. All of the brothers, Daphnes included, petitioned their father to give the Noble Name to his brother's daughter Hera, instead, who had only been born a month later. But the Emperor refused. He spoke of destiny, and made reference to the Goddesses having chosen her to be born first for a reason. 

None of them, then, believed in the Goddesses. 

But now that Daphnes had seen the Holy Triforce himself, he was just more confused. If destiny existed, and the Goddesses chose for Zelda to be half primitive, why?

Why would the Goddesses choose to shame him?

"I'm tired of this." He growled to himself. "You there!" He said, pointing to a handmaid who had seen him, and mid-bow, stopped and looked ashamed. "What has Zelda done recently that every man and woman in this Castle looks at me like something pitiful?"

"I'm, I'm sorry your Highness it's just..."

"Why?"

"...In the arena your Highness, there's a Gerudo man. He beat two veteran gladiators in two blows, and then called the Arena itself blasphemous against Farore."

"The guards killed him for his insult, correct?"

"I didn't see it myself your Highness, but they say the arrows bounced off his skin."

"Impossible."

"I'm just telling you what I've heard, your Highness."

"So why is everyone looking at me, because of this gladiator?"

"He's Gerudo, your Highness?"

"Why am I supposed to know what that means?"

"The Gerudo... it's the same race as your d-" she caught herself quickly, but became many shades paler as she continued. "y-your daughter's, mother, your Highness... She was Gerudo as well..."

"...So that's how it is." He said gruffly. "And my daughter is not merely _half Hylian_. Her blood is the same that has run since the beginning of time in the most Royal and Sacred of veins. Even if she was half _demon_ , having half of her blood be that of the ancient kings of Hyrule is enough to make her more Hylian than all of _your_ ancestors combined."

"Y-Yes, your Highness, forgive me-"

"Get out of my sight. Continue with your work. Don't waste time thinking about small-time gladiator matches you didn't even see."

"Yes your Highness. Thank you your Highness"

* * *

 

Daphnes climbed into the Royal coach and closed his eyes. "Where to? Your Highness?"

"I'm going to the Arena." He said harshly. 

"Yes, your Highness." The driver said, and without another word he began down the hill from the Castle, down into the capitol. 

The drive wasn't too long, the Colloseum was close enough to the castle. Being brought to the entrance for Nobles, the bouncer in charge of guarding the gate, a massive former gladiator himself, immediately stepped aside, recognizing him. 

As he climbed the steps to the Noble's private sector of the stands, and then even further beyond to the private box, he sat down to watch the event taking place below. Only a few minutes passed before a servant came bearing a cup of wine and a platter of various snacks. "Thank you." He said. "Tell me, is the... Gerudo gladiator everyone is talking about fighting today?"

"He has not been scheduled, your Highness." The food bearer said simply. "But I'm sure I could alert the warden or the director and try-"

"Tell the warden I'd like to see this Gerudo in action myself... If it's inconvenient, it doesn't have to be in the arena, but I want to see him fight all the same."

"Yes, your Highness." He walked off, and left the Prince to watch the battle below. Two large skeletal demons were battling a team of fifteen gladiators. It seemed to be a somewhat experienced unit, and the two sides were doing about as well as each other. From what he could tell, no one had died. Judging by the massive shield lying on the ground a ways off from the fight, there might have been a third skeleton, already defeated. 

It was entertaining enough while he waited for the warden to arrive. 

"My apologies, Prince Daphnes." The warden announced with a bow. "You wished to see Ganondorf?"

"Yes." He said, a quick, hard sound. "I've been receiving a lot of talk about him. Why hasn't he been killed? He disrespected the Arena, insulted the audience-" at the nervous expression on the warden's face, Daphnes began to feel uneasy himself. "-I've heard that the executioner's arrows bounced off his skin, that he was immortal."

"No! Your Highness, although he does have some talent with magic he used to avoid the executioner's shots. Really, the reason he's alive is that he is a perfect Heel, your Highness." The warden said. "The entirety of Hyrule hates him with a burning passion. We are going to feed this hatred for him, and when the time comes, at the very climax of the Spring tournament, he'll be killed by a pure-blooded and fan-beloved Hylian gladiator in front of the largest amount of spectators possible." The warden said the last bit with glee. "You wish to speak to him?"

"Yes... as, I'm sure, all of Hyrule has been talking about, my daughter is the child of a concubine of his race-"

"More than that, actually." the warden said, the unease creeping back into his voice. "You concubine, she was bought from the arena twelve years ago by his Majesty, correct? Hilda Dragmire?"

"...Yes."

"The gladiator's name is Ganondorf Dragmire. He was the Gerudo's Chief and Warlord. Their King, essentially, although he doesn't like the title." The warden gave a little smile. "Your child has Noble parentage from her lesser mother, at the very least."

Daphnes raised his eyebrows appreciatively. "Hilda never said she was her race's pathetic excuse for royalty. She never speaks about her race, actually. I didn't even know she was called a Gerudo."

"Ah, yes about that. I wouldn't mention Hilda to Ganondorf. He has a tendency to go into rages where he says unforgivable things." The warden looked down shamefully. "And I have promised him that, if he should go along with playing his part, and dying when he needs to for the audience, that I would release all the Gerudo being kept in the capitol. Including Hilda."

"You have no authority!" Daphnes said, offended. "She was bought honestly by the Imperial Family!"

"I know that! But he doesn't. I have no intention of allowing profitable savages run free. After he is dead, I have made a bargain with nobody, eh?"

Daphnes' lip curled into a sneer, but he didn't really blame the warden. the other races held no honor, after all. Why should Hylians honor promises with them?

They went through the labrynth, until they reached a collection of cells nearby where the monsters were kept. "We've been thinking of rolling him out through the Monster gates." The warden said conversationally. "Really upping the whole, 'King of Evil' idea."

Ganondorf glanced upward from where he sat in his cell, and his eyes shifted into a hard glare as he recognized the warden. "This is Prince Daphnes." The Warden said. "Ganondorf, bow to him."

The Gerudo sneered, but gave a small bow, it dripped with sarcasm and disrespect. "Prince Daphnes... a child of the Hylian Emperor?" 

"Indeed." Daphnes answered. 

"I'll break your face in on your own throne, someday." Ganondorf said haughtily, approaching the bars, black and purple flames appearing from him and dissipating as the magical seals on the floor of the cell sucked away the magic. 

"Ganondorf!" The warden hissed. "He is aware of your position! There is no need to play the Heel for Daphnes."

The Gerudo king raised his eyebrows in surprise, and sat back in the cell. "My apologies, then. Child of the Emperor. But I was ordered to remain _in character_ , for anyone who wanted to see me, Nobles especially. You understand, I'm sure."

"I do." Daphnes said. "But still, you have some balls to threaten a member of the Imperial family, orders to be a Heel or not."

"I plan on slandering your Emperor to his face one day soon." Ganondorf said proudly. "I will not pretend I won't enjoy it, and won't mean every word of it."

"Do not disrespect the Emperor when you are not before an audience!" the warden hissed. May I remind you that the Emperor holds one of your precious relations, Gerudo King?"

"..." The hatred in the cell seemed to become palpable with that comment. The seals glowed white continuously. 

"Ganondorf." Daphnes began. "Tell me, what is your relation to the slave Hilda Dragmire?"

"She is my sister."

"A princess of the Gerudo?"

"We don't have titles like that among my race. The Gerudo have disposed their Royalty generations ago, wisely. Tyrannical Kings mad with power, who abused their subjects and their neighbors. And were, of course, justly destroyed in every way." Ganondorf said, narrowing his eyes. 

"So how did you become leader then?"

"I proved my strength, intelligence, and destiny by competing with four others in our Holy temple. Then the previous Chief chose me based on my display."

Daphnes nodded, curious. "Is it true, that the Gerudo are all women?"

"Indeed. Men are born from Gerudo as rare as centuries apart. It was once seen as a blessing, and they were crowned King, and their daughters would be the ones to begin the next dynasty, but that tradition was discarded long, long ago along with our corrupt Royals. Now, having a son is a small omen, which means the Gerudo blood was not strong enough to dominate the maleness of the mother's foreign boyfriend. A small shame." He smiled. "Not a cruel one though, merely something for the other women to tease my mother with."

Daphnes let out an annoyed sigh. It would be even more difficult to someday find a husband for Zelda if it was known that she wouldn't likely have sons. "How bizarre. Now then, warden, you promised you would let me see Ganondorf here fight."

"Indeed, what were you thinking, your Highness?"

"hm... the skeletal monsters, the giant ones, outside, do you have more?"

"We... we do."

"Put him in a cage with one of them."

"He would get slaughtered! It takes an entire team of at least seven to stand up to one-"

"Certainly, Ganondorf must be 'stronger than seven men' shouldn't he?"

"Your father, the Emperor, was the one to suggest using him as a Heel-"

"In that case, tie a rope to him. We'll pull him back out before he dies. He gets a close call and a healthy dose of respect, what is the loss?"

Ganondorf stood to his full height, and immediately Daphnes began to unconsciously back away in fear. "Indeed, there is nothing to lose. Prince Daphnes, was it? A fine idea!" He growled. 

* * *

 

A rope was tied around his waste, and eight men struggled to lower him into a room attached to the holding pin for a great number of Stalfos and Stalchildren of various sizes. Two guards used lances with torches on the ends to guide a larger skeleton monster toward the opening, where Ganondorf was waiting. 

The skeleton, upon seeing him, gave a massive roar, and charged, materializing a great wooden shield and iron broadsword. 

Ganondorf smiled. Cloaking his fist in dark fire magic, he pulled back his fist and waited for it to close in. He knew it would take several hits, a Stalfos, particularly giant ones, were not as weak as a human, but he wanted to finish it in one punch. If only to intimidate the Prince. To give his later threats some kind of edge that would haunt the accursed royals. 

As if responding to his determination, he almost felt himself growing stronger. Tossing the notion aside as impossible, he continued to wait for the Stalfos. Once it came close, almost about to skewer Ganondorf, he threw his arm forward, crashing his magic-cloaked fist into and through the armored skeleton. The metal folded instantly, and the bones shattered behind it. With the second moment after the impact, the magical essence of the Stalfos, its very soul, seemed to become unbinded from the bones, and the entire skeleton collapsed around him. 

Ganondorf stared at his left hand in amazement, for only a moment, watching as a golden light faded from his skin, before turning to face the Prince and the warden. Bearing a savage and evil grin, Ganondorf advanced upon them. "Well, Daphnes? Is your curiosity sated? Do you now know why I must be blackmailed into dying for your greatest warriors?"

Daphnes didn't say anything.

* * *

 "Zelda!" Impa shouted. "Please, where are you?!" Sighing, the old woman prowled the halls of the vast library, muttering under her breath. "Every day, we go through this routine, can't you take mercy on an old woman?"

The red headed girl sighed, dropping from the top of a nearby bookcase. "I'm sorry Impa."

"Every day, I am told you are not in your room. Every day, I must skip breakfast to go searching for you! Ever since we came here to Hyrule Castle."

"But Impa, we only get to come here three times a year. And there's still so much I haven't looked at! This is the best part of the holidays!"

"You must get your sleep!" Impa growled. "It'll ruin your appearance, and rattle your mind, if you never sleep. Every night, you come down here and disorganize the Royal Library."

"I can sleep the rest of the year." She said impatiently. Stuffing scrolls and books into her bag she soon joined her guardian in being led back through the halls.

"Your grandfather will be wanting to meet with you. Same as always."

"Meet with everyone, Impa. And please call him the Emperor like everyone else."

"Hah! Formalities like that are for people young enough to worry about consequences. I can call the old fool an old fool if I want to. What's he going to do to me?" With this, Impa smiled evilly. "For I already have the worst duty in the Empire! Tending to a girl who refuses to be found and forces old ladies to trek through the entire castle worrying after her!"

"There are worse jobs." Zelda said, but smiling. "You could be tending to Dallen."

"That's true!" the old lady wrinkled her nose at the thought. "I'm far too old to be dealing with toddlers at this age. I really must thank Nayru, for allowing enough time to pass that you're no longer as insufferable as you were a few years ago."

"Ha."

"Ah! Daphnes." Impa said, giving a bow. Daphnes had nearly snuck up on the two of them.

"Hello, Father." She said quietly.

"Zelda..." Daphnes began. "Have any of the servants been treating you oddly in the last few days?"

"Er..."

"She's been sealing herself away in that old library since she got here, Daphnes." Impa said, looking and sounding upset about it, but when Zelda met her eyes she knew her guardian was still feeling amused. "Same as the last seven festivals."

"I'm sorry Father." Zelda said. "But the library here is so much bigger than the one we have at the manor, and-"

"...So you haven't noticed anything with the servants?"

"No, Father."

"...There's been an unusual occurrence in the arena. A brand-new gladiator's risen to fame quite quickly for insulting the audience and for being able to use magic. He happens to be the same race as your mother." 

Zelda's eyes widened. 

"So if the servants bother you about him, don't bother entertaining them. He's really of no importance."

"Y-Yes Father."

"Impa, if you see anyone trying to pester Zelda, please do not be afraid to send them off and threaten them with my authority."

"Yes, Daphnes."

With that, her father stalked off. "Did Father seem... upset to you? I've seen him irritated and almost like this but..." 

"No, my dear, that's lingering fear." Impa said sagely. "Daphnes must have gotten spooked."

 "By what?"

"Who knows." Impa said with a shrug.

"So... there's a Gerudo gladiator becoming famous." Zelda began. "Do you think he..." she began. "No, never mind. It's stupid."

"Your father doesn't like being reminded of your race." Impa said, her voice a little gentler than before. "It's best not to linger on whatever thoughts you have on this gladiator. Gladiators don't last long, after all."

"But... maybe he knew mother? She hasn't spoken to any of her sisters in so long, and father never lets us talk about it-"

"What do you want to do? Sneak into the arena and speak with one of the gladiators?" Impa asked incredulously. "Doing something you know Daphnes wouldn't approve of, for reasons he wouldn't approve of, at a time when everyone is suspicious of him? For what? The off chance he knew Hilda?"

"..."

"Zelda."

"..."

"Zelda this is not wise!"

"Impa, I'm not going to. A Princess must not put herself at risk after all. Putting themselves at such risk is the role of servants and soldiers." Zelda smiled evilly. "Truly, the second worst duty in all of the Empire."

"Zelda!" Impa growled. "I will do no such thing! How the hell am I- no! Don't start thinking about it! Why would they even let someone like me in? Why would this gladiator answer the questions of an old lady?!"

"Fine... you're right. So here's what you're going to do instead;"

"Zelda you horrible child. What have I done to deserve this? No. I refuse. I don't follow your orders, I follow your father's!"

"You're going to find out when this gladiator will next compete, and you're going to attend. And then you're going to tell me all about him."

"I will do no such thing!"

* * *

 

Impa sighed, pressing her hands to her ears in an attempt to protect her ability to hear from the relentless cheering. 

"Who, can defeat the mighty King of Evil?! Truly, perhaps the only way to combat a menace, is with an army!" The announcer shouted to the crowds. The monster gate opened slowly, and a single man walked out. 

Impa's eyes widened, and although the man was a small figure on the grounds below, her heart gave a small jump as her first impulse told her Zelda was there. 

The same bright red hair, the same dark skin.

The gladiators opposing him were a unified force of fifty Hylians in bright, shining armor. Styled after the Knights of Hyrule, each carried a silver shield and a polished sword. 

They charged as one being, and poured over the lone dark figure. She thought it was over, for a second, before she saw knights going flying, like pebbles being flung into the air after kicking the road. Again and again knights went flying. The ones who got back up were knocked back into the dirt the moment they got too close the dark figure. Impa watched, enchanted, as the lone dark warrior took out every one of the knights. Throwing them, knocking them down, punching or kicking them and sending them flying. 

Within ten minutes, he was the only one standing. The announcer came back, and started giving a speech, before the man took the shell. And all of a sudden, a deep, hate-filled voice villed the arena. "Truly, what has the world come to? The great Hylian Empire, a monstrous nation feared by every good people to walk the earth, and fifty of their finest warriors is barely a workout?!" He made a sound of spitting, and snarled back into the shell "Truly, this country gets only more sickening every day I stay here! I used to fear the Empire, and saw it as a worthy foe. But this pathetic display?! HAH!" His voice became deeper and harder with the next words. "To the murderers who run this arena: I am not your _trash disposal_. So stop sending _garbage_  to fight me." And then he turned to face the crowd. "And to the cowards who fill the seats, I hope you're getting an adequate amount of pleasure from paying to see the obliteration of your countrymen." With that, he tossed the shell back to the announcer, and walked back into the monster gate. 

"The King of Evil, everyone!" The announcer cried. "Truly, is there a demon worse that lives upon this earth?" The announcer laughed into the shell, and continued. "And if so, is there anyone who can defeat it? I present to you, a once-fabled beast of the far North, the Syger!" a monster gate opened, and a truly massive tiger with glowing white eyes and shining saber teeth entered the grounds, lured out by heavily armored guards carrying entire deer carcasses attached to long hooks on staffs. "And to oppose it, the hero Link! He defeated the Moldorm with his unit, but can he defeat Syger?!"

The boy's battle with the colossal animal was something out of a dream. The little green-clad figure seemed constantly on the edge of death, but never seemed to lose confidence or get spooked. As the fight raged on, with Link dodging in and out between the feet of the huge cat like a bug, slashing at the paws, at the stomach, at the tail, more and more often the roars of anger coming from the tiger would instead be howls of pain. 

Link dodged back underneath the animal as it smashed down its front paws, taking the chance to slash at the back of both forelegs at once. Hissing, the tiger jumped back up, standing on its back legs. Running back, the boy slashed at the left back leg, and the Syger came tumbling down in an impact that Impa could feel from her seat. Within moments, the little green figure climbed the struggling beast, stabbing it deep in the center of the neck. With a huge *poof* of dark magic, most of the demon evaporated into black smoke, leaving only a giant bleached-white skeleton. 

When Impa left the arena with the others, heading back to the Castle, she considered what she had seen. Perhaps she would have two things to speak to Zelda about. 

* * *

 

"Well? What's he like?"

"He... was a beast." Impa said, her voice almost reverent. "He threw armored soldiers around like nothing, and defeated fifty knights without a weapon."

"...You're making that up."

"No, I truly am not child." Impa took a deep breath. "And he has a deep hatred for Hyrule it seems. He's called the King of Evil by the announcer, and is named Ganondorf."

"Ganondorf." Zelda repeated. 

"But beside that, I saw another miracle. A child managed to defeat a boss monster they normally send dozens of people against by himself!"

"Impa." Zelda said, disappointed. "Now I know you're lying. That's impossible. And completely unrelated." the girl sighed, pinching her nose. "What did Ganondorf say?"

 "He's a nasty piece of work, it seems. He insulted the arena workers, calling them murderers, and then insulted the audience, saying they were all sadists."

"Well..."

"All the same... I'm glad I saw it. If only for that boy taking on that monster by himself. If there's anyone who embodies the spirit of the festival, it's that boy."

"I don't care about the monster killer boy! More about Ganondorf!"

"Zelda, I swear, his fight ended so quickly. But... he was a giant of a man, I could tell. The announcer's not a short man, and neither were any of the knights, or gladiators dressed as knights, but he dwarfed all of them. His skin was darker than yours, but his hair was the same flame color."

"...Well, I suppose that's that." Zelda sighed. "I've read how these games go, year after year. All the matches are fixed, you know that Impa? From what I'm hearing, they're getting over their heads, but if it was played well enough for you to believe a child could actually defeat a monster by himself... They're planning on the child to be winning in the Spring Tournament, and for Ganondorf to be his evil arch rival." Zelda said sadly. "At least he sounds like a good actor."

"No, Zelda. Maybe... maybe they used magic, somehow, to fake the actual results of the match, it would explain how unflinching the child was... but Ganondorf had real, true, hatred in his voice, for every person in that arena."

"Then they've just found someone perfect for the role of the season's villain."


End file.
